


FlugslysCo AU: The Date Auction

by Calliecature



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Black Hat & Dr. Flug, Black Hat - Freeform, Bonnie the Bunny OC, Date Auction, Dr. Flug - Freeform, Dr. Penumbra, Gen, Not Romance, Past Abuse, Toxic Relationship, abuser trying to get victim back into a toxic cycle, an au where flug no longer thinks black hat is hot shit, black hat messing with flug, but he’s still criminally insane, childhood bullying, ex-boss bh wouldn’t let flug go, flug is pissed and tired, flug using nondefensive phrases against gaslighting, flugslysco au, implied demencia x OC, obsessive black hat, possessive Black Hat, unwanted encounter with a past abuser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22266355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliecature/pseuds/Calliecature
Summary: In Flugslsy Co AU by Chowy, Flug got fired and built his own company to rival BHO. Black Hat couldn’t let him go. Flash forward to this fanfic where Dr. Penumbra is holding a charity for Mad Scientists of Youth Scholarship. Dr. Flug wondered how on earth did she convinced him to be one of the candidates for the Date Auction. He should’ve expected his ex-boss would never turn down the opportunity to sort-of claim him again.
Relationships: Black Hat & Dr. Flug (Villainous)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	FlugslysCo AU: The Date Auction

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ron Swanson of “Parks and Recreations” and his toxic ex-wives, controlling Tammy 1 and reckless Tammy 2. He may have divorced them but he can never escape them.
> 
> Tumblr of this AU is https://flugslysco.tumblr.com/ by Chowy. 
> 
> AU Fanfic Welcome to Flug Slys Corporation: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588343/chapters/44066299

How did Dr. Penumbra convinced him to do this again?

“ _Dios,_ why did I agree to this?” he muttered. His hand itched to pinched the bridge of his goggles but he held back. He didn’t want to come to the front on the stage with a creased paper bag. Instead, his hand clenched, laboratory glove squeaking at the pressure.

Bonnie, his creation (and muscle and secretary), adjusted his diamond knot bow tie. He lifted his chin up without thought, distracted at the thought of being pushed in front of an audience in a… romantic potential kind of light. Despite receiving a lot of fan mail, that kind of attention still left him feeling clueless and flustered. 

“You owed her,” she simply said, one bunny ear tapped its tip on his forehead, “sir.”

He grumbled at the back of his throat. He had told his minions about the “Lightbulb switch” incident -more for them to learn from his mistakes as a past minion than an explanation of what had happened. Now, he was starting to regret it.

Bonnie stepped back, nodding with satisfaction at her handiwork. “Besides, sir. Isn’t this a cause you agree with?”

He sighed and straightened his shoulders. Flug almost didn’t gave a verbal acquisition under his stoic shell. Until he remembered what it had been like in Bonnie’s place. With that entity as his boss. If he had been half as awful as Black Hat, Bonnie would be shoved off somewhere with a growl. 

“You’re right, Bonnie,” he said, he patted her shoulder. “Thanks.” 

She gave a salute as she walked off to join the audience on the other side of the closed stage curtains. But not before giving a double thumbs up of “You got this!” It made Flug smile. 

He faced the front of the stage again. Dr. Penumbra’s voice could be heard on the other side, introducing other bachelor scientist villains. She must’ve noticed how flushed his neck was when she had said he was saving him for last. He knew he had gained reputation when he became Black Hat’s right hand man a long time ago. But it seemed that he was receiving a new kind of respect by building a “Fuck You, Black Hat” corporation after surviving his ex-boss’ wrath.

Dr. Flug allowed himself a smile, albeit a tired one. Dr. Penumbra was a rare villain -an advocate type. Who knew she would organize scholarships for future mad scientists? Along with saving the climate. He almost wished he had that opportunity when he had been younger. Things might’ve turned out differently. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Dr. Penumbra announced his name. 

“-and last but not the least, I give you Dr. Kennings Flugslys!”

The curtains parted and Dr. Flug stepped forward, looking more in control than he felt in the theme of the event. Dating auction of all things. 

_It’s just going to be one hour,_ he reminded himself. He was glad no one could see his face when the crowd _trilled._ Bonnie wasn’t helping when she put two fingers on her mouth and gave a voluminous wolf whistle. He was almost glad that his assistant, Igor, and 505 wasn’t around to bear witness. Until he realized Bonnie was recording everything with the camcorder in her phone.

“Thank you, Dr. Flug,” Penumbra said, her shadowy hair sweeping behind her back. “Bidding is open by-”

BANG!

Mahogany doors bounced off the walls from the sheer force and squeaked wearily in its hinges. A tall shadow cut through the shaft of light from the open doors. There was a gasp that rippled throughout the gasp. Flug’s clenched hands shook as the shadow of a top hat reached the stage, almost engulfing Flug with its darkness.

_That overdramatic oaf._

The tap of his cane was almost deafening. The villainous guests parted like the Red Sea as _he_ came nearer. Flug was surprised no one could hear him grating his own teeth. 

_What’re you doing here?_

There was a subtle tip of the top hat as though he heard Flug’s inner snarl. A red eye glinted below the brim before a sharp, phosphoric grin flashed, bearing no man good. 

Flug remained unmoved in their staredown when Dr. Penumbra tapped her gavel. The crowd rippled with a jump before settling down.

“As I was saying,” Dr. Penumbra cleared her throat, with an air of someone pushing forward. “The bidding is open by-”

“One,” a raspy, throaty pitch cut through that sounded more like an inhuman mimicking a voice, “hundred thousand dollars.”

Flug almost choked at his own spit. Most of the bidding started at five hundred dollars. 

_Control,_ he reminded himself, feeling the weight of Bastard Hat’s unblinking, messing grin -pinpointing for a sign of weakness, no matter how flitting. His reptilian eye glowed with blood red intensity as if he could see right through his paper bag. _Creep_.

The crowd echoed with awe. 

“One hundred thousand dollars,” Dr. Penumbra repeated. From the corner of his eye, he could see her glance at him with concern. “Does anyone else wish to go higher?”

Silence. None dared. What Black Hat wanted, Black Hat would get.

One villain disagreed. Or rather two.

Flug tapped his finger on his side. Bonnie caught on quickly.

“Two hundred thousand dollars!” she cried out, raising her paw-like hand.

Black Hat casually bent his neck, getting a kink out of his joints (the nearby villains gave a wince at the boney crack). “Three hundred thousand dollars,” he said in turn, looking bored already.

Flug tapped his finger again. This time rapidly. “Five hundred thousand dollars,” Bonnie yelled out.

“Five hundred thousand dollars,” Dr. Penumbra echoed back to the crowd, trying to ignore the crackling contempt exchanged between Flug’s glare and Black Hat’s mocking grin. “Anyone wishes to go higher?”

Flug’s blood pressure spiked at the amused, almost pitying shake of Black Hat’s head. He could almost hear him, like he had always heard him a thousand times before in their bitter battles, “ _Your struggle is futile in delaying your inevitable._ ” Just like how Black Hat wanted for him. _“I’m your inevitable.”_

Without breaking his gaze, Black Hat enunciated, each syllable precise and carried throughout the room like blood spilling and staining.

“Two. Point. Five. Million. Dollars.”

Dr. Penumbra startled with the crowd. The charity was turning from one shock into another. “T-two point five million dollars,” she almost gasped. Almost. “Going once? Going twice?”

Flug stilled his hand. Bonnie lowered her readied hand in response. At least, the money donated in the event plus Black Hat’s would ensure he wouldn’t lure another 18 year old naive, surviving-on-spite-against-the-world, genius nut job into scientific slavery. Not when they would be well-funded. 

She slammed down her gavel. “Sold!”

The doctor lifted his chin at the salivating grin of those phosphorous shark teeth.

* * *

Dr. Flug would toast marshmallows with the flames of the world burning if it meant Black Hat would burn along with it. 

Unfortunately, Black Hat was like an antibiotic-resistant gangrene where you have already sawed off your own foot to get it off you and yet it’s still under your skin.

He glared, barely touching the dinner of the event as Black Hat simply watched him from across the table as though they were two gentlemen having a nice meal together. 

_Gentlefuck,_ he inwardly growled, remembering Black Hat’s pretense of the perfect, classic gentleman whenever it suited him. That face never made an appearance inside the ridiculous giant hat of a manor. It was always the overgrown brat who wanted to play deity in a plane that he failed to ascend from (or refused to) for who knows how long. 

“What,” he gritted, “do you want?” Flug knew the only reason why Black Hat hadn't snatched him and teleported back to the manor was because Flug had carved a sigil on himself. It had hurt like a fucker the first time Black Hat attempted to kidnap him. 505 had to carry him off from the singed, enraged eldritch but it was worth it to see his ex-boss collapsing against a wall. (Apparently, Black Hat hadn’t learned when they both got seized with pain after he attempted to telekinetically choke him before that.) 

Black Hat leaned back, not a care in the world. “Are you that happy to see me?” he asked before gesturing a finger towards the table, “or is that a ray gun you’re pointing under?”

Flug gripped the Disruptor tighter before loosening his finger. He knew it wouldn’t be enough to hurt Black Hat. But there were other threats that could be made aside from pain. 

“Try anything and you’ll have an audience of being nutshot across the room.” At least Black Hat’s words confirmed that he could sense his gun's unique radiation.

The eldritch simply swirled his cup of wine. He took out a vial and poured some of its contents in it. Vapor rose from the wine with an echo of a broken cry. Whatever poison unfurled, it unravelled itself in the fermented grapes like blood in the water.

Flug was snapped out of trance when Black Hat spoke.

“Oh but _my dear_ doctor,” the eldritch sighed, every word of intimacy derisively rubbed wrong. “I just want to _talk_ ,” the last world was almost a vomit with its sneered civility. He swirled his cup again to break out the bubbles before taking a sip.

Flug barely blinked. Black Hat hated change and loved routines. He no longer had the submissive scientist that he could maim. But he still loved pulling Flug into exchanges where Black Hat would twist, cut and ripped his every defense. 

Flug refused to give a response. Instead, he took the moment to look at the corner of his eyes where Bonnie could be. From the flitting side eye that Black Hat did, it seemed he was looking for Demencia too. Flug was hoping the jealous lizard hybrid would barge in and ruin their “date”. Then he could take the opportunity to escape in the chaos and not deal with the megalomaniac megavillain. But it seemed like Black Hat had kept her in place.

Where were their employees by the way? Flug pushed the thought away in the face of a bigger, uglier fish to fry. He had no doubt that his levelheaded bunny creation could handle his unstable lizard creation.

Black Hat swallowed with a burdened sigh. “Without you losing control and blaming everything on me,” he continued. 

Flug almost sputtered. HE fired him! Then tried to kill him! And he was the one losing control?!!! The guy who would throw him across the room at the smallest mistake when things didn’t go his way?! The slightest provocations rocketing with impossible levels of ire that he always had to pay for with pain of unimaginable horrors?! And no, he wasn’t exaggerating, he still had nightmares of the time he was thrown in the Void of Endless Pain. 

His chest rose with a breath. He held it. Then let it go. Visions of nailing the eldritch into an operating table and vivisecting him into a bloody wreck can be reflected upon later.

“If that’s your opinion,” Flug calmly said. Black Hat’s words were a bait. A trap to make him defend and justify himself to Black Hat.

No more.

Black Hat’s roach antenna eyebrows drooped in confusion. But it happened in such a split second, Flug almost didn’t catch it. 

“What do you want?” he said, feeling like he was managing his ex-boss all over again. Diverting his barbs for his own health. How many times was he going to take care of this monstrosity of a man-child? Almost like a toxic ex -comes with a lot of baggage and none of the sex.

He recoiled internally. He was just glad Black Hat never had the interest to cross that boundary. 

Black Hat watched him over his cup of befouled wine. Flug knew he could detect emotions that could be corrupted into the seven deadly sins. Desire, anger, hunger, apathy and pride.

Desire.

Had he even felt that way towards his ex-boss? Flug had been too preoccupied with stress and fear to really look into his own admiration. And he was definitely not going to entertain that notion now. 

Flug looked back challengingly that in a million years ago he would never dared to do so. 

Black Hat frowned before his lips curled into a smile. He raised his glass a little, almost like he was showing he still had the upper hand.

“Goldheart,” he simply said.

Flug refused to give Black Hat the satisfaction of seeing him jolt. 

“What about him?”

“A little bird told me he’s been using all his scientists’ fancy gadgets to find you.”

“And why haven’t you destroyed them if they’re still in Hat Island?”

Black Hat sipped his wine again. “Why should I? They’re after _you._ ”

Flug stared at him long and hard. Black Hat had almost burned down Hat Island trying to look for his base of operations. Now that Heroes are looking for it, the eldritch’s tattling to him? When Black Hat could’ve just watched until they got successful and used their discoveries as his own?

“And you’re telling me this because?”

The eldritch’s face was devoid of emotion similar to a smooth viper’s stone. But Flug knew well enough when his excitement rose like a tide, anticipating like a leopard about to pounce. 

“What do you know of the old man of Podemos Bailar?”

Flug suppressed a smirk. He knew Black Hat had every right to ask about them now. Flug had been hacking data of Black Hat from their site. Most of it was were things Flug had known about the eldritch before. But enough for anyone in Black Hat’s shoes to get concerned about.

Instead, he frowned at the catch. He always had the feeling that Black Hat loved the challenge of negotiation, disguised with illusion of niceties that came off as charismatic power, covering deceit and intimidation. Clients would get tricked into agreeing to the short end of the stick. 

He frowned because he almost wanted to smile too at the familiarity. 

_One moment of weakness. A lifetime of regret._ One of life’s painful lessons for him every time he thought he could let his guard down around someone. To Black Hat of all people. Should he be thankful? Maybe. But if Life was an entity, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them up close with his Cell Splitter.

“Why do you think _I_ know anything about him?” He raised his brow. “I left you, didn’t I?”

And just like that, the pretense was dropped. A flash of a second, Flug could see Black Hat’s face pulled into an angry snarl, meat red gums visible. His monocle reflected the desperate damned trying to break free from its reflection as his face rippled with eyes and mouths -surfacing anyone’s instinctive trytophobia.

Then it was gone. Flug was back to the ambience of the charity event. People murmuring. Silverware clinking. The bastard signalling the waiter for more wine.

Black Hat leaned forward, hand idly swirling his glass. “ _Dear doctor,_ are we really going to pretend you can’t stay away too long?”

His hand clenched at the flood of emotions pulling him in every direction. Anger at the audacity. At the entitlement. At the delusion.

Fear of being trapped again. Caught. Sucked back to Black Hat’s venom. He had refused to be cowed by that split second of horror. But Black Hat would love to explore the limit of his mind before he would break -like the first time under his employment. 

Thrilled. It was stimulating to taunt in their game of cat-and-mouse. Was he feeling the remains of his past self seeking the approval and validation of a loveless force of evil? Like some father-deprived grown man? 

And flashbacked to a boy who everyone thought should stay under their foot, fastforwarded to feeling empowered to choose and be chosen by Black Hat, being both fully aware and woefully unprepared of what kind of a monster he was. 

But mostly… 

He was tired of this. Tired of his games. He was no longer the same villain who based his worth on someone else’s opinion. Even if that someone else was a universally powerful villain that he had looked up to for years. 

The pure evil before him refused to acknowledge that. 

Well then, Flug would simply have to strap him on his operating table in a dreamy future of satisfying his eldritch curiosity and bloodlust.

He let his free hand palm and squeeze his knee through his glove. The simple motions grounded him enough to deflect and change the subject.

“I’m sure you see it that way,” he replied. “In exchange for the coordinates of Goldheart’s scientists, I’ll give you his.” He glared, his goggles reflecting the glare of the light. “The coordinates of his two remaining allies, that is.” 

Black Hat glared. He glared back. The seconds stretched. Warped. Each one thinking what part of the exchange would come short. Each measuring the worth of offer and trust.

Black Hat opened his mouth and the negotiation continued. Flug could tell Black Hat was displeased to be the one agreeing to the terms instead of the one laying the terms. A bitter realization came to him that Black Hat refused to see him as an equal. Something would go wrong with Black Hat’s offer. What, though, would be the question. Usually something tragically ironic. He had been with Black Hat long enough to know his story formula. 

He had considered if this negotiation was just a distraction and Black Hat had some other hidden agenda. But no, his ex-employer’s information was too advantageous for Flug. Still, he had to take it into consideration.

He wondered how much had Black Hat figured him out too. The eldritch could be so contradictory. Cunning but too arrogant and unempathetic to understand human complexities beyond fear and desire that caused evil to be repeated in history. Evil that Black Hat would savor like the finest wines. 

_If I'm Black Hat,_ he mulled, _what do I know of me?_

The eldritch grinned in a way that would make a sane man run. For a moment, Flug wondered if Black Hat knew that he had figured him out and would do something further unpredictable instead. 

After more back-and-forth, the eldritch was satisfied enough to hold out his hand across the table. “It’s a deal, _doctorrr..._ ”

Flug frowned at the rumble of his r’s. “No shaking of hands.”

A sharp grin was his reply. “Taking heart of old wives’ tales?”

Flug took out his business card and wrote on it. Black Hat mirrored him by snapping his fingers. A burst of green flame came out and in it was his business card with coordinates on the back. 

Never breaking each others’ gazes, they exchanged cards. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, _doctor_ ,” Black Hat said, the final word a soft threat. His form wisped into swirling shadows before Flug, making everyone’s heads turn. The inky tendrils brushed his fingertips that were resting on the table.

Quick as a flash, Flug grabbed a fork and stabbed the surface where the tendrils had been.

The fork quivered before stilling into an upright position, prongs embedded deep on the wood. He thought he heard an echo of a cackling laugh.

It was a moment before everyone resumed with their dates and dinners. Flug snorted with a roll of his eyes. “Showy bastard.”

* * *

The event ended with no fanfare after. Bonnie had approached Flug ten minutes after Black Hat was gone. Turned out, she had been preoccupied with Demencia. Flug assumed they had been fighting because Bonnie had returned a little out of breath and straightening her office jacket.

They went home in Flug’s jet plane. Autopilot activated, Flug looked out of the window, deep in thought while Bonnie tapped her workload away on her laptop.

“Sir? What did Black Hat want?” she asked, eyes still on the screen.

Flug steepled his fingers, goggles reflecting light with an eerie glow. “Exchange of information.”

“Podemos Bailar?”

“Podemos Bailar.”

Silence fell except for the clacking on the keyboard. Then it stopped.

“Sir? Have you ever sold his soul to him?”

This time, Flug glanced at her. “Who told you that?”

His employee’s shoulders were loose. But her eyes remained glued to the screen. “Demencia. She let slip that he would take souls while we were... fighting.”

Flug raised a brow at her odd pause. Then again, giving and taking souls were never a frivolous matter. “Of course, she would,” he muttered before he fully faced her. “No, Bonnie. Black Hat only wanted my skills on science and engineering. My soul was never part of our contract.”

His creation nodded. For a moment, he allowed himself to smile. Bonnie was his latest and proudest genetic achievement after learning from his mistakes (specifically the side effect of instability on Demencia). Smart. Diplomatic. Even-tempered. He had controlled every sequence of her DNA for her to be a fully formed adult with a maturity of someone in their mid-20s.

Bonnie looked up from her laptop. “Sir…” 

He tilted his head at the gravity of her tone. 

“If Black Hat cannot claim you again professionally,” she spoke, slow, thoughtful… and worried? “He might try to claim you in another way.”

“You mean my soul.” He shouldn’t have been surprised at her perception. He had tweaked her genes to give her a slightly higher emotional intelligence than himself.

Bonnie now looked more uncomfortable. “When he ‘bought’ you in the Date Auction, he was drooling.”

Flug laughed. “That’s just how he is.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about my soul. He can only claim one when given willingly.”

Bonnie still looked worried but continued working. He opted not to tell her that Black Hat would stare at his neck every time the eldritch would bare his teeth. Flug didn’t know what that meant. That was a new behavior for him despite having been his head scientist for years. Probably a killing urge? He only knew that he was more useful to Black Hat alive than dead. Eldritch information was so scarce, he had considered portalling to other planets or other realities for answers.

There was no need for Bonnie to get anxious for his neck though. But he was grateful that she had recommended high-collar lab coats for his signature look. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is also inspired after reading a book on how to deal with narcissistic parents, controlling parents and other toxic parents of adult children with non defensive phrases. After reading so many fanfics of Black Hat verbally crushing Flug’s ego, I just want to give Flug a chance where he’s finally free from an abusive cycle but is still dealing with the internal effects.
> 
> While Black Hat and Flug had been talking, Bonnie and Demencia were… busy. I'll admit, writing about Black Hat had been fun with his pure evil trope.


End file.
